Hitting on Sam
by ThinCeilings
Summary: Sam was perceptive, focused, and alert. But more importantly, she was Lara Croft's best friend. Put two and two together, and whammo! You got one confused Japanese-Portuguese-American twenty three-year-old wondering why the heckie heck her cute British best friend hadn't yet snagged herself a hunky, bookish, adventurous, sexy, etc, etc boyfriend. (No worries, it's Lara x Sam).


Sam prided herself on being a perceptive person. Sharp as the focus on a Nikon D700, she was, with more zoom on someone's feelings than the AF-S NIKKOR zoom lens - or perhaps a Canon EF, ooh, yeah, those were nice, two were on their merry way to her tertiary duplex on rush - she'd ordered them the instant Canon broke the news -

But that was beside the point!

She was perceptive, she was focused, she was alert. But more importantly, she was Lara Croft's best friend. Put two and two together, and whammo! You got one confused Japanese-Portuguese-American twenty three-year-old wondering why the heckie heck her cute British best friend hadn't yet snagged herself a hunky, intelligent, bookish, adventurous, sexy, etc, etc boyfriend.

"Sweetie?" Sam said, peeking her head around the corner of Lara's kitchen.

"There's more Nutella in the cabinet above the fridge," said Lara distractedly, bent over a mountain of papers and textbooks on her desk.

"That's not what I want," said Sam, slipping over to Lara's side. She peeked over her friend's shoulder, and read aloud the title of the book she was poring over. "Sun Wukong and Immortality: The Crossroads of Religion, Superstition, and Culture in Ancient China." She wrinkled her nose. "News flash, Lara - some people use summer break to, y'know. Take a break."

"Break doesn't exist when you're a Croft," said Lara, running her finger down a column in a dictionary. "You don't ... happen to know the Chinese character for 'charisma,' do you?"

"I hardly speak Japanese. What makes you think I can do Chinese?"

"Right, right - it's just that kanji is borrowed from Chinese, and the languages share a lot of the same characters, so it's likely that 'charisma' might have … Had …" At the look on Sam's face, she trailed off. "Sorry. I was going off again, wasn't I?" She closed the dictionary with a heavy thoom.

"Embrace your inner nerd, sweetheart." Sam draped her arms over Lara's shoulders. Commence Mission Impossible: Get Lara Croft an Equally Nerdy Boyfriend. "Hey, know what would be awesome?"

"Hm?"

"Finding that one special nerd."

She stared. "I don't follow."

"You know!" Sam stuck out her arm and dramatically panned her hand across Lara's field of view. "A lifelong love buddy. A forever-night stand. Your _raison d'etre_."

More staring. Jeez. She loved her to bits, but Lara could be friggin' dense. "A boyfriend, dummy."

A fraction of a second ticked by with no response - then the implications of what Sam was saying sank in. Lara threw her head back and burst out laughing, a very offended-looking Sam pulling herself off her shoulders. On the last legs of her laughter, she choked out, "No way."

"Whaaaaat? Why not?"

Chuckling, Lara gently pushed down Sam's arm, and scooted her chair closer to the desk. "I'm not interested in men."

"Why not?" Sam pressed, plopping her butt down on the desk and upsetting the desk lamp.

"I'm way too busy." Lara steadied the desk lamp. "Besides, a man could never keep up with me."

"More like a man could never put with you," puffed Sam. "All these papers! Essays! Books! All over the place! Your apartment's a mess." She shook her head. "It's like a pigsty, but instead of pigs, it's … Dusty old books! It's like a … a…"

"A library, Sam. You're thinking of a library."

"Nerd." Nearly knocking A Comprehensive Guide to Chinese Calligraphy onto the floor, Sam scooched off the desk, and without so much as a warning, started dragging her chair away from the desk. Lara instinctively gripped the edges of her seat, holding on.

"Sam, come on -" she started, twisting round to see her friend.

"You - need - to - hit - on - cute - guys!" exclaimed Sam, punctuating each word with an insistent tug on the chair.

"No thanks," said Lara, getting up. "I'd like my chair back, please."

Sam swung the chair behind her back. "Not until you hit on at least two hot boys."

Lara made a grab for the chair, but Sam stepped deftly out of the way. Frowning, Lara said, "Even if I did agree to this - and I'm not - where would we go? It's too early for the bar scene."

"Young people lingo! Ten points to Hufflepuff! " said Sam, brightening. Then she frowned. "Actually, is Harry Potter too new for you? Maybe I should reference some ancient Celtic tribes -"

"And anyway," Lara trudged on, ignoring Sam's interjection with admirable stubbornness, "it's not like I've got experience hitting on men. I'll just embarrass everyone involved."

Sam chewed on her tongue, considering the very exasperated Lara before her. What could she do? As Lara's best friend and closest confidante … What … Could … She …

Do?

Like the sun breaking gloriously over the horizon, a grin spread across Sam's face, illuminating every feature it touched. "Except you won't embarrass everyone involved, 'cause you, my dear, will first be hitting on …" She lowered her voice to a manly growl. "Samuel Nishimura, dashing, sexy, and oh-so-male."

Holy shit. Lara pressed her fingers to her temples. "No. Absolutely not."

"Aren't you attracted to Mr. Nishimura?" Sam waggled her eyebrows.

"Can you please stop doing that thing with your voice, Sam?"

Sam expelled a puff of air through her nostrils. "I thought Lara Croft was adventurous. Bold. Ready to take life by the throat and strangle."

"No - well, yeah - but that's different! I can't climb a boy. I can't explore a boy."

Sam raised her eyebrows. "You'd be surprised."

"Stop."

"I'll stop after you hit on me once. Just once!"

Lara opened her mouth to protest, then closed it at Sam's big watery eyes and scrunched up little nose and wobbly chin. God, this girl knew how to play her like a fiddle. "Fine. But only once."

The puppy-dog look vanished and Sam clapped her hands together. "Great! Okay, now three two one go!"

Christ, was she really going through with this? Lara cleared her throat - might as well get this over with soon. "Hi. Hi there."

"Hello," grunted Sam. In her regular voice, she hissed, "Ask me if I come here often!"

"Do you." Unwittingly, the vivid sans serif title of that American television show _Naked and Afraid _flashed across her brain. "Do you come here. Often."

"No, I don't," said Sam, and whisper-shouted in her regular voice, "Be more aggressive!"

"Aggressive, right," she muttered. Lara Croft had been impaled by rusty poles, shot at by howling religious fanatics (arrows and bullets), trussed up and burned, and attacked by savage wolves, but hitting on Sam was, by far, the most painful thing she had ever suffered through. "Well, uh - I, let's see -"

Trying her hardest to keep a straight face, Sam grabbed her hand and guided it toward the curve of her waist. Lara could feel the back of her neck burning, and wondered vaguely if Sam could feel the heat. "Bust a move," Sam hissed.

"Uhh." Wow, her eyelashes were long. How could eyelashes be that long? Was she wearing mascara? "Do you, um, are you - do you have a girlfriend, I mean, are you here alone?"

The corner of Sam's mouth twitched. "Yeah, I'm here alone." Whisper-shout: "Compliment my handsomeness!"

"You're very, um. Pretty." Sam batted those long, long eyelashes. Lara's heart skipped a beat and suddenly she couldn't look at her directly. She settled on staring at a spot on the wall behind her. "For a, uh. A man. You know?"

"Men can be pretty."

"Yeah! Yes." Throat-clear. "Affirmative, yes, they can be."

"Men can be really pretty." Sam said, grinning. She took hold of Lara's other hand (Lara's heart nearly stopped) and pulled her in even closer. Their gazes met. Lara could count every faint freckle on Sam's cheeks, could smell the sweet and airy perfume on her collarbone, could finally appreciate the true beauty of brown eyes.

"Do you think I'm pretty?" Sam whispered in her normal voice.

Wordless, Lara nodded.

"I think you're pretty," Sam said and then they were kissing, their fingers squeezing together, reassuring each other that they were there; Lara could feel Sam pressed up against her body, warm and soft, like good thoughts on a bad day. The kiss lasted for a second. The kiss lasted for a lifetime.

It was Lara who pulled away. Lips parted, she stared at Sam, who stared back at her, face flushed pink. The realization crept in like an unwanted guest.

"Oh my God," said Sam.

"Sam," Lara began.

"Oh my _God_," said Sam loudly, taking two quick steps away from her. "Oh. My. God."

"Sam -"

"Oh my _fucking _God -" Sam whipped around and fast-walked for the front door. Lara hastened after her and reached out to touch her shoulder, only to have her hand thrown off. "Sam -"

"Thiswasfungoodnightokaygoodbye," Sam said. She grabbed her shoes, flung open the door, and slammed it shut behind it with a loud BANG. Lara wrenched the door back open, but Sam was already halfway down the steps of her apartment, feet moving faster than she had ever seen.

"Sam!"

"Goodbyefriendgoodbyehaveagoodsleep!" Sam called, and then she was gone. For half a heartbeat, Lara lingered painfully on the top step, torn between slinking into her bedroom and burying her face in the pillows forever, and rushing down the stairs after her best friend. As the internal debate raged on, she touched her fingers to her lips. She could still taste Sam.

Fuck it.

Gritting her teeth, Lara slammed her door behind her ("Not again!" she heard her neighbor groan loudly), and hurtled down the steps three at a time.


End file.
